


Dissident

by ZaneShadow



Category: Divergent (Movies), Divergent - All Media Types, Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon - Book & Movie Combination, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, M/M, POV First Person, POV Original Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:46:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27517075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZaneShadow/pseuds/ZaneShadow
Summary: Blaze was always attracted to Danger, so some might say Dauntless and others might say Crazy. However, this danger will lead to a whole mess of unforeseeable trouble, with Blaze right in the middle along with those similar to him: the Divergent.(A REWRITE and Continuation)
Relationships: Eric (Divergent)/Original Character(s), Eric (Divergent)/Original Male Character(s), Four | Tobias Eaton/Tris Prior
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	1. READY...

**Author's Note:**

> So... here we are again. Dissident was a work that I helped write with a few other people but the story idea and the characters were always mine. It never was finished and after rereading both the Divergent series and that fic again, it left me... wanting. I wanted to rewrite the story and actually finish it this time. So I'm going to try since people seemed to really have liked it. At the time, I liked writing it and I like rewriting it now to be much better and more fleshed out.
> 
> So, say hello to Blaze Summer once more :) A much better hello than before if I do say so myself!

I absent-mindedly curl a finger through my hair, thick and red and curly. It could be considered an immature habit, one I should have outgrown over time. I am bored, however and when that happens, then I am left with nothing by my own thoughts.

Eyes meet mine and I exhale. They are darker than mine, surrounded by thick lashes but they are the same shape and sharpness. No, they aren’t sharp, not like mine are when I gaze in the mirror to do my hair. My twin sister, she is one half of me. She is the nicer half, one that smiles at people without malice or mockery. Alice Summer to my Blaine Summer. There is an old, outdated practice of correlating one’s birth with the stars. Her and I are Gemini, a constellation of twins from old, ancient mythology. I let my fist meet my cheek and I look down at my plate. We are eating breakfast. I am  _ supposed _ to be eating breakfast. I feel too restless to be hungry.

“Are you nervous?” Alice asks me. She made the food. Scrambled eggs and sausage and chopped fruit in the shape of squares are all on my plate. There are biscuits spread with jam and they are the only thing I have eaten within the past fifteen minutes. Her question is a valid one, I suppose even though part of me doesn’t want to answer. A part of me never wants to answer but I always do.

“I’m impatient,” I explain and I can hear my own agitation in my voice. My fork stabs a piece of pineapple. Today is a special day that everyone looks forward to. At least,  _ I _ have been looking forward to this day. It is the day of the aptitude tests. This test will show me where I belong, but I already know. I look up at my sister Alice; kind and sweet Alice who knows how to tell the truth and make it sound nice. I know where she belongs too. Out of the five factions, you belong to one. The test will tell me what I already know twice over then. It is a decision for the rest of my life. It is a decision for the rest of her life. It is a decision meant for deliberation. Will I stay with my family or will I leave them forever?

“You’re good at being impatient,” Alice tells me. She’s right. I don’t care, though. Sometimes, I don’t like to talk to my sister. When her and I were younger, it was easier. Now, I feel like I can’t be myself to her. I criticize and question and she acknowledges and understands. Alice will go with the flow and she doesn't argue like I do when someone questions me.

Our parents enter the dining room to sit with us. My dad pours a cup of coffee and my mom begins to fill her plate. I button up the last button on my white blouse and I stand. My dad begins to speak with my sister and I tune out the conversation, looking to the road where some people are headed to the buses already. I know the schedule. Alice and I catch the second one every morning. It is all so boring. I squint at the sunlight from beneath greying clouds and I am ready to leave.

I know I don’t just mean to go to the bus stop.

The bus ride itself is uneventful. Alice is cheerful and makes small talk with a younger Candor who asks a lot of questions. She is cute with big brown eyes. When I look at her from where I stand, all I can think is that she might grow up to be Erudite. Next to Alice in a seat is an Abnegation in grey. I see more of them, grey upon grey, robed and covered to seem less interesting. In my opinion, they only draw attention. Selflessness isn’t really honest, is it? I can’t imagine pretending to be humble just to make other people feel better. Not being yourself is a facade. Some of the Abnegation walk the path into the hub. The heart of the city always interests me and today is no different as my eyebrows pull down. It’s foggy today, and it obscurs a huge, black pillar that toweres to the sky. I look up to the train tracks above us. The trains run for only one faction. The Dauntless ride the trains.

When the bus finally stops in front of the school, I huff. I walk off, moving past a few people so I can be one of the first to get off. Alice is close behind me because she always is. Glass and steel look as stark as ever, the school building I have been going to for a few years. There is a large, metal statue that the Dauntless like to climb. They go willingly or they dare each other. Right now someone with a head full of pitch-black hair is climbing, and I watch for a moment. I remember last year, someone fell and broke her leg. I remember criticizing her in my head, I remember thinking it was a stupid thing to do, that it was reckless. I remember wanting to climb with her.

“What’s your class again?” Alice asks me as we walk inside. I spot an Abnegation girl whose name I never bother to remember with blonde hair and large, blue eyes. They almost look too big for her face.

“Faction history,” I reply and I look over at my sister and narrow my eyes. “Why do you always forget, huh?” Alice shrugs. She’s always shrugging, so dismissive of flaws. My eyes roll when I see a smile forming on her face.

“Oh my thoughts are all over the place sometimes,” she laughs and she smiles. “My memory isn’t that good but have fun in class, okay? Mathematics starts for me and I want to meet some of my friends before the bell.” I shove at her shoulder, smirking a bit as she stumbles.

“Go on then before you forget you were going to in the first place.” I am already walking toward faction history and as I do, I pass by the blonde Abnegation girl again. Coming up from behind me, an Erudite boy in blue suddenly shoves into her and I roll my eyes. At least the Erudite are honest in their biased mistreatment of the Abnegation lately. Their faction has been releasing reports about the grey-coloured faction for months and the behavior from Erudite only gets worse everyday. I don’t help the girl up and not because I am afraid of being a target. No, I think people should be able to pick themselves up; she’s been embarrassed enough. I see her cheeks are stained red and I feel pity for her. Her name was Beatrice, wasn’t it? Her brother, Caleb, was pleasant to look at.

Instead of helping Beatrice up, I move a little faster down the hallway to catch up with the Erudite boy. There aren’t many other people in blue around so he is easy to trace. It’s not hard to do, so as I pass him by, I stick my foot to the side right when he steps and he stumbles into another group of dauntless girls. I watch as they rile up immediately and shove him against a closed locker. I have to bite my tongue to not say anything at first as the Erudite tries in vain to explain it was an accident. “I tripped him,” I say rather proudly. He pushes himself off the locker as he brushes himself off. The dauntless girls send him one last glare as they leave to occupy another crowded space in the hall.

“Why?” he demands, and I cock my head ever so slowly. There are a few people who watch us in passing. The dauntless girls peer over occasionally.

“Because I don’t like you,” I reply simply and I smirk. He is silent after that and I recognize when an Erudite has become calculating and inquisitive. I am calculating myself and then a decision is made. I leave before he can ask any further questions. If I stay longer in front of him and his stupid glasses that are now slightly bent, I will punch him. There’s no need to be getting into fights today, specially not with a know-it all and especially not over a Stiff.

When I see Beatrice, I debate approaching but then decide against it. I stopped making friends seriously a couple years ago; everyone in Candor knows each other either way. It is easier to forget them if there is no emotional attachment and I will need to forget about them. There’s no point in pretending that they are my faction because no matter what the test will tell me, I am only picking one thing and it is not Candor. I look out of a large window as trains roll in. It’s time to watch the Dauntless jump and it is one of my favourite things to catch sight of. The trains don’t stop for them as they began to leap and hurl themselves from the opening doors, figures of burning black and danger red. It’s exhilarating and I love to watch. One day, soon, that will be me. Brave and free, clad in ebony.


	2. SET...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Aptitude Test.... :)
> 
> I DIDN'T REALIZE THE WRONG CHAPTER HAD BEEN POSTED OOPS

If I have to wait any longer, I may begin to lose brain cells. My brain is buzzing in anticipation. After lunch had begun, I sit next to my sister at one of the many long lunch tables and there are a few other Candor that I haven’t paid any attention to since I was thirteen. Only a few tables over are a group of Amity girls clad in loose red and yellow. They sit in a circle on the floor, playing some kind of game with their hands, singing a song and their laughter and actions provide enough entertainment that I don’t completely lose it. The table next to ours, my fellow Candor sit more and two of them are arguing animatedly even though one of them still grins.

“What do you think you’re going to get?” A boy asks and I think his name is Finn. He has light brown eyes that catch the light easily and he looks like he frowns a lot.

“I’m not transferring,” someone else says. I look over at her and her bob cut, sharp and dark brown. There’s not a single wrinkle in her white button-up and black blazer. I am not surprised. I look at myself and my lack of even a suit jacket, one of my buttons undone, my hair longer than regulation.

“That’s not exactly news,” I comment, looking up. The girl looks at me, frowning. She is flushed red in her tanned skin. If I have to bet, she is angry though it’s easy to mistake for embarrassment.

“Well, Finn asked,” she grumbles.

“He just means you’re one of the most Candor people here,” my sister interjects. She says it with a smile and I feel one forming on my own face. My canine catches on my bottom lip. Alice means well and to her, it is the truth. 

“I know we value honesty, but do you we really have to answer every single question we’re asked?” I ask, and my eyebrows raise inquisitively. Anyone with a brain would guess she of all of us here would get Candor. Before the girl can get at me with a response, my name.

“Blaine Summer.”

Another name is called, some other Candor, Bianca. I lift to my feet, my hands against the table and I leave without another word.

As we walk to exit the cafeteria, I look at Bianca. She seems nervous because I can see her hands are shaking. I look at my own and scoff quietly. She doesn’t look over so I don’t think she hears it. No part of me is shaking and what I told Alice yesterday stands. I am not nervous. I was restless but now the wait is almost over. The aptitude test rooms are all set up. Usually they sit mostly empty outside of the cafeteria and are only active for this day. The ten rooms, all lined in a row, are separated not by typical walls, but by mirrors! I can see myself approaching, pale green eyes unwelcoming but determined. I feel like I am set in stone as I step away from Bianca and into room 4. There is an abnegation woman inside with honey-blonde hair tied up into a low bun at the base of her neck. I look at her plain, grey, loose and layered clothing and I think what I usually think when I see an Abnegation… she is Abnegation. I remember that most of the aptitude tests are given by Abnegation.

She smiles at me as I look around. There aren’t just mirrors on the outside, they’re on the inside too. Everywhere I look, I see myself in my white button-up and slim-fit, black slacks. I can see my lips part as I take in a breath, the dark brown freckles that are scattered intensely across my face, the light brown of my skin, the fiery red of my hair. I look directly to the closest mirror, ignoring the chair towards the center of the room just for a moment. I almost look like a girl and I already know this but my cheek tilts away in scrutiny of my own face, in scrutiny of my angled eyes and thicker lips and delicate frame. In the reflection, I see the Abnegation woman standing patiently and I realize she is letting me waste time.

How selfless of her.

“So, do I just sit here?” I ask as I step toward the center of the room and my hand grazes against the chair. It is reclined like one you’d see at the dentist. It makes me curious and I look at the woman directly this time. She smiles and nods.

“That’s right,” she affirms gently. “My name is Natalie and I’ll be administering your test. Please, get comfortable, it is perfectly safe.” I wasn’t afraid but I accept her assurances anyway as I climb into the chair and sit back. There is a machine right by the chair that Natalie is tapping at and moving wires around with. I watch her in silence. She turns to face me once more and I sit back again. Now that it’s finally happening, I am even more impatient and I tap my fingers against the cushions of the chair as Natalie places electrodes on my forehead. She moves wires, presses electrodes to her own head and attaches wires to them. I watch and I am fascinated. I almost miss her handing me a vial of liquid.

On instinct, I take the vial and stare at the clear liquid before looking up at her. “Is this water?” I question as my head tilts. Natalie shakes her head.

“It’s part of the test,” she says. I stare at it and I want to know more.

“What does it do?” I press, frowning in irritation. Vagueness is a form of dishonesty. That, and I want to  _ know _ .

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, “but I can’t tell you that. It’s safe and you will be fine.” She rests a gentle hand on my arm and I look down at the grey sleeve of her sweater before sucking in a breath. I gulp down the liquid and sit back in the chair, and her hand is patting my arm gently. I blink but my eyes don’t reopen because they feel so heavy suddenly and I reach up to rub them.

When I pull my hands away, my eyes reopen and everything is different as much as it is the same. I blink in surprise as I look around at an empty cafeteria. All the walls are glass though, windows that reach from the floor to the ceiling. The long table closest to me has a plate with a hunk of cheese and next to it is a knife. The blade is long and it glimmers in the white light projecting from outdoors. I look out of the large windows again and observe snow. The sun is out and it is almost blinding but snow falls from somewhere, coating green grass.

“Choose,” a woman’s voice says behind me. My eyebrows furrow as I look over my shoulder. There’s no one there. I scoff and look at the knife and cheese again.

“Why?” I ask. “What is it for?”

“Choose,” repeats the voice. Now I place my hands on my hips and frown.

“Just tell me why,” I demand as I look around again. There is not a single soul in the entire cafeteria, and I see no one outside.

“Choose!” the woman yells at me now and my fists clench as I bare my teeth. Angrily, I snatch the knife off of the table and turn to face the air as I holler back,

“Don’t freakin’ yell at me!”

Creaking catches my attention and my eyes watch as one of the cafeteria doors opens. A dog growls as it suddenly hurtles towards me and my eyes widen. So, that is what the knife is for. Whatever world I am in, it wants me to stab this dog. Time slows around me as I suck in a breath, and my shoulders are tensing. I don’t want to stab a dog. My mind is racing even as each bounding step the dog takes seems to take an eternity. I won’t hide, no. My legs spread and the grip on the knife tightens within my fingers. I won’t hide and I won’t stab the dog either. How is this a test? It just seems cruel to me.

But I know how to deal with dogs. My neighbors have a dog and she is always rowdy. Just the other day, I stood in front of her and held my ground. When dogs realize who is actually in charge, they are all bark and no bite. So I face the dog head on as it charges me. When it reaches me, it comes to a stop and barks at me. That is about what I expected from it but I don’t stop watching the dog. Eye contact soon has it lowering its head in a sign of submission.

“Good boy!” Dropping to a crouch to reach for it feels safer now and my fingers run through its coarse fur. That wasn’t so bad. Blinking reveals the form of a little girl and before I can think, the dog is aggressive once more. At first the girl is excited until she sees the dog’s teeth bared and hears the growling. My feet have me moving before I can even process what I’m doing. I jump in front of the girl, blocking the dog’s path as it lunges. Teeth pierce my skin. The knife pierces the dog. Hitting the ground wakes me up and I am back inside of the testing room except there isn’t a table or Abnegation woman in sight. There is a door and I make my way to it and fling it open.

Immediately, a young man runs up to me, waving a paper in my face. I am barely able to look around at dying grass and barely-paved roads. The buildings around us tower into the sky, and I can barely make it out the faded blue colour because of the clouds. The flickering of paper is getting on my nerves so I glare at the young man.

“Hey!” My hand catches the paper and I stare down at the words “MISSING DOG.” The very same dog I had just stopped is in the photo and I look at the young man.

“Have you seen my dog? He’s been missing and I’ve been looking for him everywhere,” he says and he sounds desperate, oh so desperate. He sounds as if he’s been looking for this dog for months. “He’s all I’ve got left!” My eyes stare into his.

“Your dog is dead,” I tell him. “I killed him.”


	3. GO...

Bright lights make my eyes burn and as I come back to reality, I feel like there is something wrong. There has to be something wrong and it is not the heaviness in my stomach that threatens to twist. Instead of continuing to blind myself, I sit up in the chair and look around. The Abnegation woman, Natalie, is nowhere to be found and I scoff in disbelief. The electrodes and wires that were attached to me are all gone and I rub my forehead. What am I meant to do? Is this still the simulation? No; it is not the simulation. I don’t know how I know, but I just do. This is reality. I can’t leave without my results, however. Even if my mind is made up, I want to know. I need to know.

More moments pass and for the first time, anxiety creeps along my spine. Where did Natalie go and what is holding her up? Did I do something… wrong on my test? Am I… Am I factionless? It can’t be that.

The door opens to the testing room and I look up with relief as Natalie approaches me. My eyes scan her face; she looks a bit concerned and it makes me concerned. Her hand rests on my arm and before she can speak, I ask, “What were my test results?”

“I’m sorry that I worried you,” Natalie sighs and then her voice becomes very quiet. I lean forward in my seat to hear her better and she moves closer as well. “Blaine, your test results were… Candor,”

My eyebrows furrow and I have a million things already ready to spew out but then,

“...and Erudite,” she continues, “and Dauntless.” Natalie grows quiet for a moment. My eyes flicker back and forth between hers. I don’t understand what she is telling me. No, that is a lie. I understand very well what she is telling me but it doesn’t make sense to me… except, that isn’t true either. Thinking back to what I remember of the simulation, what she’s said makes entirely too much sense. But, that isn’t right because you either test for a faction or none at all. She just listed off three to me and her kind gaze tells me she isn’t lying.

“Blaine,” she repeats my name. “Your test results were inconclusive. This is...called Divergent.  _ You _ are Divergent.” She says the last two sentences so quietly that I could have hallucinated the words. Divergent. Divergent? My brain recognizes the word as a fairy tale. Divergents didn’t actually exist, except that is a lie because you are one, Blaine.

“I’m…” My sentence doesn’t finish. I took the knife which was Dauntless but I thought of a smarter way to avoid being mauled which was Erudite. Leaping in front of the girl was Dauntless again, and telling the young man I killed his dog? How much more Candor could I have been? Frustration heats my cheeks and Natalie squeezes my arm in a way I know is meant to be comforting. All it does is make me a little angrier but it’s so irrational. It’s not her fault for how  _ I _ tested.

“Blaine, you must not tell anyone what you are.” Natalie pulls away and begins to wrap up some of the wires. When I look now, it seems they were pulled away and dropped in a haste.

“That would be dishonest,” I respond mechanically, automatically because it’s true. Despite the rules being not to tell what your results were until after the Choosing Ceremony, keeping the truth afterwards is dishonest. Natalies looks back at me then, and her expressions is grave, her posture tense.

“This is a matter of life and death, Blaine,” she insists quietly. “Please, for your own sake. Tell no one, no matter how much you trust them. No matter what happens. Tell no one and be careful.” The nausea from earlier returns and I look away from the Abnegation woman and to the floor. The urge to throw up is strong.

“You should go straight home,” Natalie tells me and I slide off the chair. The back of my palm presses to my forehead as I walk toward the testing room door. My hand on the handle, I turn and look at Natalie one more time. She smiles reassuringly and I leave without another word. The choice really is all in my hands now. Before, perhaps I’d been bluffing. Three factions to choose from were proving me right. It is  _ my  _ choice. Candor. Erudite… Dauntless. The daylight makes me feel sicker. My triumph is overshadowed by something a little grave and it aggravates me.

I take the bus and I sit. My stomach is still twisting. What am I supposed to tell my sister? What am I supposed to tell my parents?  _ The serum made me sick _ , I think. It’s not a lie. I do feel sick. But, was it the whole truth? For some reason it feels like a betrayal.  _ Get it together, Blaine! _

At home, I sit at the dining room table and stare at the hardwood. My fingers trace over the grains and I begin to count them in my head.  _ “You are Divergent,” _ Natalie’s voice echoes in my mind. Now that I am settled, I can think about things a little clearer. Taking a sip from my glass of water, I sit back in my seat. Divergents; they had to be something special. Something dangerous. The thought of it… intrigues me. Why was it a matter of life and death? Were people being killed for being Divergent? But why? There was no logical conclusion that I could form at the moment. The strangest thing is that it sort of pleases me because the only real thing I can conclude at the moment is that I must be feared in some way.

Alice arrives hours later when the school day is over, 22 minutes later, like her and I usually do. She is quick to find me where I still sit at the dining room table, half-dozing away.

“Why did you come home early?” she asks me and sits to the seat adjacent to mine. I prop my head up with my hand. This was expected and fortunately, I had hours to deliberate my responses to these questions.

“The serum made me sick and my test administer told me I should go home and rest,” I explain. That is not a lie. There are just… pieces of information missing. Why does it feel a bit too natural? It wasn’t as if I detested telling the truth or something. It was rather useful, really, being honest. I grin at my sister as her eyes narrow slightly. “Are you jealous?”

“No, I’m just worried,” she sighs. “There are rumours spreading about how some students were sent home early because they were sick. When I couldn’t find you, I got so worried. Why didn’t you come tell me first?”

“Because it’s not that serious, Alice.” My arms cross. “The serum made me sick and I was sent home! It’s that simple.”

“Well, are you feeling a bit better?” Alice reaches for me and I pull back.

“Can you stop fussing?” I scoff and I’m a mixture of amused and frustrated. She is just trying to get the whole truth out of me. She can tell I am hiding something and by the way the corner of her lips turn down, Alice can tell I’ve caught on. Still, she persists and her fingers curl with mine. I look down at her hand and frown.

“We used to tell each other everything,” she mutters dejectedly. My lips part and then close.

“We’re not little kids anymore Alice,” I say quietly as I soften my voice. In the end, my intentions are not to hurt her feelings. She is my sister and I’ll always care about her no matter how much I wish I couldn’t. I think it will hurt for a little bit when we both leave. Without a doubt, I will miss her. “We’re eighteen, okay? You and I both know we were never meant to stay Candor.” At that, Alice goes quiet and simply watches me. Her hand is still holding mine and hopefully she believes this is what the problem was the entire time. Test results aren’t meant to be discussed so Alice begins to cook dinner. I watch her chop and season vegetables, letting them sizzle in a pan while she prepares steaks. This will be the last time.

“The test is just a suggestion,” Alice says a little later, voice quiet. She is making our parents’ plates and I check the time. Our mother and father will be arriving within a few moments. We always all eat together and talk about our day. “It doesn’t  _ have _ to change things.”

“Yes, Alice. It does.”


	4. ANEW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Choosing Ceremony! >:) and the aftermaths of it!

Looking over my shoulder reveals a bus-full of Abnegation approaching the building. Today is the Choosing Ceremony and my parents are stressed. I stand outside with them and Alice as my mother smokes a cigarette with several other Candor. The sun barely makes an appearance today, just a little golden halo in the sky that I occasionally squint up into. At least the clouds are pale white and bright so it isn’t too dreary. Wouldn’t want anything else to ruin the mood.

Alice is calm but I am not. The same restlessness from before has my foot tapping against the pavement. There is so much waiting for a decision that will change everything. I follow my parents and the rest of the Candor gathered outside into the Hub. On the elevator, it is crowded and the typical selfless Abnegation leave to make space for a big group of Amity. Their bright yellow and red catch the eye and I catch myself watching them for a moment. My eyes slide from the Amity to my sister and I watch as her eyes gaze at them with hidden longing. It shouldn’t be so surprising but I feel a sudden rush of adrenaline, abruptly looking away to the ground. We really were leaving. This was almost it. The past couple of years I had tried so damned hard to distance myself from everyone but now reality was setting in. I sigh heavily as I scratch the back of my head. My feet pull me along to the elevator, and more and more Candor pile in with the Amity already there. Was it guilt? Is that the feeling threatening to leave me? It almost feels like pain and it’s a real damned shame. All that effort for nothing. My eyes close, ignoring the pressing of white lights. There was no point beating myself up over it now.

The twentieth floor finally arrives. It’s rather strange but most of us initiates, the rest of the eighteen-year-olds? We’re silent despite the quiet chatter from other Candor. There is almost an air of anxiety that suddenly rams its way through everyone. Everyone but me, anyway. We arrange ourselves in paralleling circles that run around each other; the initiates, including me, are the closest to the five metal bowls in the center of the room. We stand in alphabetical order because of course we do. The five metal bowls have always interested me ever since I was a child because of what was in them. Grey, smooth stones for Abnegation, earth or dirt for Amity, glass for Candor, heated coals for Dauntless and finally, water for Erudite. I’d always wondered why water for Erudite and my sister used to argue with me about it. Sorry, not argue; ‘debate.’

I am just settling next to an Erudite boy when I am suddenly being pulled into a hug by my father. My eyebrows furrow in mild annoyance but I hug him back. His jacket is wrinkled a bit as he pulls back and nods. “Faction before blood,” he says resolutely and it’s not exactly what I was expecting to hear to be honest.

“Right,” I agree quietly, my voice hedging on aggravation. Did he know? My mother rests her hand on my shoulder. Not too far away, she’d finished hugging my sister. When I look at my parents, they are calm in a way someone is after coming to terms. They are on the acceptance stage of grief. They knew, at the very least, that one of us was leaving if not both. That would be that… Maybe I should have paid them more time when I had the chance. For just a moment there is a creeping of more regret but as my father’s hands leave my shoulders, it is freeing in a sudden way that has all the nerves leaving me. Instead, giddiness replaces my guilt. I am free. I am free to choose! My father nods and goes to sit and my mother takes his lead. Never had I ever asked my parents permission for most things. I did things on a whim and explained myself afterwards… but here they were, all but laying out their permission tome. Because it isn’t needed, that is why it feels so… so good. When I carefully turn away from where my parents sit, still watching me and my sister with relaxed smiles, my heart is pounding away. There is slight smoke trailing from the Dauntless bowl. The sweet scent of coal is in the air and I can taste it on my tongue.

Marcus, the Abnegation faction leader, stands at a podium between Dauntless and Erudite. He clears his throat and the sound echoes into a microphone. I don’t want to watch him, my eyes trained on Dauntless but I find myself drawn by the feeble distraction.

“Welcome,” he says, “to the Choosing Ceremony: the day we honor the democratic philosophy of our ancestors, which tells us that every man has the right to choose his own way in this world.” Well, it sounds nice but it’s honestly a load of shit. It’s not really choosing your own way when the whole point is to have some test tell your choice for you. Marcus continues on, the same old speech as every year. Who did humans blame for war? Did they blame our aggression? Did they blame our ignorance? Did they blame duplicity? Or perhaps they blamed selfishness, maybe even cowardice? How about...all of the above? Mostly, I believe dishonesty, cowardice and ignorance. Humans lie to each other and why? Not only do they lie but they hide it like cowards, too afraid to face even their own truths let alone someone else’s. And they refuse to understand; they refuse to understand how the world works and especially how other people work.

But I am not. I am ready. I am more than ready.

Rolling my shoulder slightly, my eyes dart over to my sister impatiently. Marcus is still speaking.  _ “Faction before blood _ ,” my father had said to me not even ten minutes ago. Was it true? Was faction more important than family? Maybe I believed it and that is why this decision was so easy to make. The sudden round of applause startles me but I keep my reaction inside, looking to Marcus once and suddenly he is calling names. Finally. One by one, eighteen year olds make their way to choose. Amity to Amity, Erudite to Erudite; transferring is not as common as I have tried to pretend it was.

_ “Inconclusive. Inconclusive. Inconclusive.” _ The word echoes in my mind and I begin to idly twirl a stray strand of hair with one of my fingers. Divergent. Incompatible. At odds. Each synonym rings hollow in my mind and I find myself smirking with each person who picks their faction. What did it matter if he was Divergent? I want to be Dauntless. I am going to choose Dauntless, I am going to be  _ be  _ Dauntless. My confidence makes me grin. And then someone switches factions. In fact… they switch to Candor.

There is a low murmur that breaks out from Dauntless and I try to understand the mindset. They see this kid, this ‘James Tucker’ as a traitor but… faction before blood, right? Right?

An Abnegation is next to go and I am interested only for a moment as it is Beatrice Prior’s brother, Caleb. I am shocked along with the Abnegation when he lets his red blood drip into Erudite.  _ What _ ? I share a look with my sister, unbridled disbelief. Her and I are not identical but in that moment, I feel as if I’m practically looking into a mirror with the way her face is contorted. She cannot believe it either! A scoff escapes me, almost a laugh as my hand drops to my side. The Erudite had all but made themselves enemies of Abnegation! A laugh does escape me then as Marcus calls for everyone to settle down. The group of Erudite look entirely too smug. It wasn’t even my faction they’d been antagonizing but I am flushed with annoyance anyway.

When Marcus calls Beatrice next, I cross my arms. She chooses Dauntless. The shock results in quiet but I find myself no longer caring as I glare at the ground. Everything begins to zone out in my mind. I have waited too long. Watching everyone pick, scandalous decisions or not, is trying my nerves. I just want to go already! I roll my shoulder again and suddenly Alice’s name is being called. My head whips around to look at her as it is silent. A faint smile pulls at my lips and she confidently makes her way toward the five bowls, and I take in her appearance. Really, we share a lot of similarities. Our clustered freckles that form along the cheeks and nose are stark under the white lights, our brown skin, the way our lips curve when we are truly self-assured. Even our walks are similar and our hair, scarlet red. She usually kept it long, much longer than me, much longer than regulation and in a braid but today it flowed loose and free as she glides the knife across her palm.

The main and most stark difference between my sister and I, our are eyes. Simply put, her eyes are dark brown and mine are pale, yellow-green. Her eyes curve in happiness and sweetness, like a child after getting ice cream, like a mother congratulating a child. She is welcoming and warm and accepting; but, my eyes? My eyes are sharp, judgemental, cold in a way that I sometimes don’t acknowledge but force myself to anyway. I see the light in Alice’s eyes brighten as her blood drips into grass and soil. She picks Amity just as I always thought she would and they welcome her as she approaches with cheers and hugs. She is made for them, I really do think so. She hugs them back and for a moment, I almost feel shame. Shame that my sister turned out so kind and loving and I somehow turned out like this.

All the shame leaves me when the cheering dies down and Marcus calls my name next. I smile and force the expression away as I step forward. This is serious. When I am close, I look directly into Marcus’s eyes as he hands me the knife. My hands wrap around the handle and I think,  _ Sorry mama. Sorry father. Sorry that you are losing both of your children today _ . Whatever guilt I feel fades away as I cut into my palm and tilt my hand up to stop the blood from dripping to the ground. Immediately, I reach over and hold my arm over the hot coals of dauntless. The blood sizzles and steams. The Dauntless burst into whoops and cheers and this time I don’t hold back my smile. The cut on my palm stings as I wrap it and walk toward the faction clad in black. One of the dauntless-born pats me on the back and I glance over the group. Barely, I notice Beatrice and I look away, pressing my fingers into my palm. Now that I have picked, nothing else matters. The choosing seems to fly by and I hardly pay attention.

There are only a few more faction switches and the responses to them are not so dramatic, at least not from the so-called betrayed factions. When the final girl is called, a newly-made Amity, it’s time to go. I am ready to leave and the Dauntless begin to trail out first. I move along with them, the crown pressing me forward and I look over just one more time. My sister is hugging another amity girl and she smiles so carefree and happily that it makes the smile on my face tug even harder at my cheeks until they ache. When I look to my parents, it’s as if they were waiting, as our eyes meet. They are both smiling softly and after a couple of seconds, my father waves.

Then that’s it.

The large crowd I am in makes their way toward the stairs and it has me curious. Usually only the Abnegation use the stairs. As soon as a questions forms in my head it is gone when the Dauntless around me begin to cheer, laugh and run. Many of them have begun to run down the steps, some of them jumping, taking four steps at a time and I laugh myself, finding myself exhilarated by the actions. I begin to run as well and I brush past a few other dauntless before glancing to my right and then my left. The stare railing catches my eyes and an idea pops into my head. I shuffle to the side and then trail my hand along the railing as I run. My Candor dress clothes will make this easier and I find myself hopping over to slide down the railing. A breathless laugh leaves me as I zip past a few people so quickly that I almost fall over; I should take special care to not fall over.

“Oh!” I hear a few people and I look over and watch as a few others follow my lead and begin to grind down the railing. I only let myself slide down a bit more before I stumble back onto the steps. It was one thing to brave and another to be stupid; I’d almost fallen too many times for comfort but the jovial feeling does not leave as we all bound outside and into the sun. The dauntless all layer across the street and I look at the oh-so familiar train tracks. We all begin to form a thin line.

Someone behind me asks, “Are we supposed to hop on that thing?” Well don’t sound so disappointed, whoever you are! Without warning, the train is visible and gliding toward us on the steel rails. My gaze is mesmerized by the flashing lights and the sound of its horn barely registers in my mind. Each car door is open and the Dauntless begin to jump in. I am itching to go as I watch first the Dauntless, then the dauntless-born initiates and then finally us, the transfers. Without a moment’s hesitation I begin to run beside one of the cars and I reach out with one hand, my eyebrows furrowing and then I catch the edge of a door and my feet are lifted off the ground.

Grunting, I swing myself inside of the car and find myself tumbling into the train and almost out of the opposite door. A breathless laugh escapes me as other transfers hop on board. On my knees, I turn and rise, staring out of the open door.

“Are you excited?” a girl next to me asks. She was from Amity, it seemed. Her hair is long, dark and in coils down to her hips. Her curls are a mess from probably wind and whiplash, dark brown with dark brown eyes to match. She is lighter than me but darker than many of the others on the train.

“Yeah!” I respond and grin and I hold out my hand. “I’m Blaine, you?” She mirrors my smile as she takes me hand.

“Andrea!” she calls to me over the sound of wind and suddenly her head is whipping away to look out of the car doors. I follow her gaze and watch as person after person in the cars ahead of us begin to leap out onto a building. “Oh wow…”

“Looks like we gotta jump!” I exclaim excitedly, making my way to the car door and leaning out slightly. The building would be coming up soon. I take a few steps back before running and leaping forward. Vaguely, behind me, I hear someone ask,

“And what if we don’t?!”

For only a few seconds, I feel like I am flying and then I am making contact with the roof. I don’t land on my feet. I roll across the broken gravel before coming to a stop. Taking a deep breath, I look up the cloudless sky. My heart is hammering and there is fear in me; I welcome it. Never had I ever felt anything quite like what I’m feeling today and the smile on my face probably says it all.


	5. The Gates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Dauntless :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finger guns. we're getting started

More and more people stumbled next to me and behind me, hitting the paved roof with force. Carefully, I rise to my feet and turn to watch as Andrea finally jumps from the moving train. She rolls forward as a few of the other transfers are already rising to their feet. I reach a hand out to her and she readily takes it, pulling herself to a feet. A bit of surprise rushes through me and I almost stumbled forward as she grins at me.

“Bit of thrill seeker, aren’t you?” she laughs and I feel myself flushing. It’s true. From the very beginning, even when I was young, I did things with the intention to illicit reaction. All I can do is smile at Andrea as I gaze over my shoulder. The smile tenses on my face as the train continues on and I see someone still riding. And then there’s a scream. Both Andrea and I whip around and my heart stutters in my chest; but not in fear. My eyes meet the Abnegation girl’s gaze, Beatrice, just for a moment before I am moving toward a Dauntless girl wailing near the ledge. It doesn’t take even a second for me to guess what happened and before I know it, I am looking over the edge in morbid interest.

“Rita,” a dauntless boy says as he holds back the girl- I suppose her name is Rita- from the ledge, “Rita, calm down. Rita—”

The person sprawled awkwardly at the bottom of the pavement is a girl and I can only guess that she is...  _ was _ Rita’s sister. My lips part and I back away, looking to Andrea. She’s gone a bit pale but I say nothing. Rita drops to her knees and begins to sob and I take Andrea by the wrist and begin to pull her away. A part of me is surprised someone is dead so soon but… This is Dauntless. Dauntless is danger and whether you were born here or not, it doesn’t matter. Beneath my thumb, I can feel Andrea’s pulse thrumming and when we are a bit further away from the edge of the building, I give her a reassuring smile. She doesn’t return it but I can feel her heart rate slowing if somewhat. If this is only the beginning, I have to wonder how long some people may last through initiation.

“How awful,” Andrea says quietly as she slips off a loose, yellow shawl. I watch the cloth float across the building. There are a few tears in Andrea’s pants and I can see her knees, one of them scraped a bit raw and bloody.

“Yeah it sucks,” I say because it is rather unfortunate when anyone dies. I cannot bring myself to care any further than that and I know it’s a little bit heartless. There’s nothing I can do about it though. I can tell Andrea, coming from Amity of all places, is off-put by my robotic response and I sigh, glancing over my shoulder at Rita one more time. I force myself to think about Alice, my sweet and kind sister, laid out on the road below and my jaw clenches. “I can’t imagine losing my sister…” When I speak again, my voice is much quieter, less blunt and Andrea looks to the ground, nodding. I take Andrea’s wrist once more and I begin to pull her along, following the rest of the people moving forward.

Somewhere behind me, someone shouts, “Scandalous, a Stiff flashing some skin!” I don’t know why but my head jerks around to look, if out of nothing but curiosity. I find the source of the voice first, a tall boy with dark, shiny hair and a cute face that surprises me. Oh… Peter. My mouth twists at the sight of him, Molly and even Drew; Dauntless just got the Devil’s trifecta added to their initiates it seems. I blink a few times, looking away and I soon spot Beatrice, looking embarrassed with red in her pale cheeks. My eyes narrow at her and Andrea pulls away to go over to her. I can only guess to comfort her or something kind like that but I stay where I am. I don’t want to really socialize with anyone quite yet.

“Listen up! My name is Max!” A loud voice rings out across all of us and my head perks up. Although I am a bit on the shorter side, I am still able to see a man with dark skin and greying hair around the temples; he is much older than the rest of the people here. “I am one of the leaders of your new faction!” Max stands on the other ledge of the building casually, his arms crossed over his chest. My lips twitch, a slight smile. What, is he ignoring how not too long ago someone fell to their death? It’s not surprising. This is Dauntless afterall. “Several stories below us is the members’ entrance to our compound. If you can’t muster the will to jump off, you don’t belong here. Our initiates have the privilege of going first.”

My eyes widen and my heart beats twice as fast as it was before.

“You want us to jump off a ledge?” an Erudite girl demands in disbelief and I smirk at her. When I look back to Max, he seems amused, and there is a slight smirk on his face as well.

“Yes,” he answers.

“Is there water at the bottom or something?!” another Erudite asks, a boy this time.

“Who knows?” Max says ominously as he raises his eyebrows and I begin to unbutton the cuffs of my button up and then my collar. 

The crowd of Dauntless in front of us initiates moves to the side, making a path. My hands drop to my sides and no one moves just for a second. I take a step but someone grabs my wrist, their fingers clammy and I look over at Andrea with furrowed eyebrows and a pout forming. I was ready to jump. I  _ am _ ready to jump! I hear snickers and I look to see that the Stiff, Beatrice, is walking toward the ledge. My lips purse. I need to stop referring to her as a Stiff. She is a Dauntless initiate just like I am… and Stiff was never meant to be a particularly kind term for Abnegation.

Standing on the ledge, she strips free of her overshirt and after balling it up she tosses it at Peter and it hits him in the chest. I chuckle, grinning wide enough to show my teeth. Then she hesitates again. And then she jumps.

“It’ll be okay,” I say to Andrea as I turn to look at her and smile, a real smile. “They’re not trying to kill us.” She stares at me in disbelief for a second before I am tearing away and running forward. My shirt is unbuttoned more than halfway from the bottom and it flows a bit behind me as I run. My foot meets the ledge and I take another step into empty air. In a matter of seconds, I had gone from the crowd to the edge. Before I am completely over, I am turning to give a thumbs-up to Andrea who watches me fall with wide eyes.

The air rushes around me, sucking out all of the sound and a breath is pushed out of me. I can’t even hear my own heartbeat. All I see is the sky above me and the sudden thought of not knowing whether or not I am going to die makes me nauseous. Darkness encompasses me and I blink and then the nausea fades away as I am caught in what I realize is a net. The velocity makes the impact harder than the net actually is and I grimace as I sloppily try to roll over and out of the net. The surface is too unstable and I am not used to it enough. A hand reaches toward me and I take it, stumbling off of the net.

My feet on stable ground, I look up, just not realizing that people are cheering and laughing. Other Dauntless members appear in the dark and I smile, spotting Beatrice. The hand pulls me forward and away from the net and I look up to meet dark eyes, dark  _ blue  _ eyes and I stare unabashedly even as he releases me and a girl’s scream echoes from above. His hand claps around my shoulder for a moment.

“Welcome to Dauntless,” he says and pulls away. I follow toward where Beatrice is standing in watch and I glance over my shoulder to see Christina climbing out of the net next. It is interesting. It is incredibly dark down here, surrounded by rock and earth. One by one, more and more initiates fall into the net. I observe the dimly lit area some more and boy do the Dauntless like the dark.

“Congrats on being First Jumper, Beatrice,” I say suddenly, not looking at her. For a second, she seems surprised and then looks at me.

“It’s… Tris,” she responds and then pauses for a second. “And thank you.” My eyebrows raise as I look up at the hidden ceiling, barely able to see in the dark as more people surround us. Tris, was it? She changed her name then. Hm… perhaps I can change mine. I am stuck in my musing, my forefinger scratching lightly at my chin. Someone suddenly taps me on the shoulder and I lazily turn to face them, my hand freezing in place.

“Heya, remember me?” Andrea grins at me and I squint at her through the darkness, at the flush on her now bare shoulders and ruddy cheeks. She looks a hundred percent less scared and the dim lighting makes her eyes and the dips of her cheekbones stand out in a charming way.

“It was exciting, right?” I say, not really a question, and I nudge her with my elbow. As I do, I realize that my hands are shaking with adrenaline and I laugh quietly as she pulls me into an equally shaky hug.

“Definitely,” she breathes out as she pulls away.

When all the initiates are finally down here with us, blue-eyes and the girl with several piercings in her brow begin to lead us through a narrow pathway. It’s like a tunnel of, the walls made of stone. I feel as if we’re traveling further underground and every so often, there is a lamp of light that hangs from the ceiling. Without these lights, it is almost impossible to see and Andrea holds my hand the entire way. I don’t really mind it. She almost reminds me of my sister but I think it is the Amity in her that does.

“This is where we divide.” The crowd comes to a stop and the girl with rings in her brow raises a hand toward the Dauntless-born. “You all with me, you don’t need a tour.” When they leave into the shadows, most of the crowd bulk is gone. The majority of initiates were Dauntless-born, which is expected. Only nine of us remain, transfers from other factions. I am… unsurprised to see that we are mostly Candor and Erudite. Tris is the only one from Abnegation and Andrea is the only one from Amity.

“Most of the time I work in the control room, but for the next few weeks, I am your instructor,” the blue-eyed man says. “My name is Four.” So his name is Four? My lips pull. Like the nu—

“Four, like the number?” Christina asks just as I think it. I look at Four and I see that there is something brewing despite his lack of response.

“Yes,” he replies. “Is that a problem?”

“Nope.”

I tilt my head as Four continues, “Good. We’re about to go into the Pit, which you will someday learn to love. It—”

Christina chuckles and I cannot help the grin forming on my own face. “Clever name,” she snorts and I meet her gaze just as Four walks up to her. Ah… what I thought was brewing earlier is no illusion.

“What’s your name?” he asks quietly. After she answers, he continues, “Well, Christina, if I wanted to put up with Candor smart-mouths, I would have joined their faction. The first lesson you will learn from me is to keep your mouth shut. Got that?” I scoff a laugh, short and unimpressed and his gaze turns to me as Christina nods stiffly. I stare back and raise my eyebrows. He does not intimidate. No one really scares me. My mother always said it was stupidity, not bravery, to not be scared sometimes. I think I simply know how to choose my battles. After a moment, Four turns away and continues down through the tunnel and we all follow him.

“I can’t stand people without a sense of humor,” I mutter to Andrea. She shakes her head and sighs.

“What a killjoy that guy is,” she complains, her eyes cutting across his figure in the dark. I huff out a breath and raise my hands to the back of my head while I walk. Killjoy is a bit of an understatement. But still, I find myself smirking, holding in a laugh. His attitude is amuses me the more the scene replays in my mind.

He pushes open some doors and I perk up, hands dropping as I stare over the side of I realize immediately is “the Pit.” The ceiling rises incredibly high above our heads, uneven rock walls holding everything up. There are several, narrow paths that criss and cross and the roof is made of glass. Pale orange light breaks through and glosses over everyone. Everywhere I look, there are people dressed in all black. They all laugh and talk and mill about casually, even children race across the narrow paths with abandon. There isn’t a single inch of railing in sight and just do it, I lift my foot off the side for a moment. It is a long way down. I love it.

Four waves us along and leads us to the next spot: The Chasm. We are stopped by railing and I stare at the waterfall that surrounds us, rushing water on one side, calm on the other. Peering over the side, I see a rushing river and my brain just barely tunes in Four’s warning of maybe not jumping off of this to your death. So people have done it before. I have no intention of actually dying but I continue to gaze down. There is beauty in it, the danger of it all. I only pull away when Four leads us away again, through the pit and through a giant hole in a wall. Ah! When I see it is a cafeteria, my stomach clenches and I realize I’m ravenous. The Dauntless already there applaud our entry as they stand and cheer and next to me, Andrea’s smile is incredibly wide. I can see tears forming in her eyes and I resist the urge to laugh.

When we go to find seats, I sit across from Tris who sits between Four and Christina. Andrea drops down next to me. I immediately grab a hamburger and I pause to watch Tris be absolutely confused. Christina tells her what it is and Four helps her out so I go back to eating immediately. Then the doors to the cafeteria open and everyone goes quiet. Curiosity wins in me over taking another bite of my burger and I look toward the doors to watch a young man with dark-blond walk in. He has a piercing through his left brow, and two rings on either side of his lip, a black stud in between them. There are two, black studs in his ears and his eyes, pale blue and piercing, sweep over the room.

“Who is  _ that _ ?” I ask, still watching him.

“Eric. He’s a Dauntless Leader,” Four answers plainly. I don’t bother looking at him, my eyes solely trained on Eric as his eyes land on our table and he approaches. He stops at our table and up closer, my mind is made up. I like his face. He begins to speak and I barely pay attention, lifting my burger to take another bite. There is a coldness to his gaze, as if there is nothing beneath the blue-glass that are his irises and it interests me, even as I watch his lips move. His hand moves, shoves Four slightly by the shoulder and then his eyes catch mine. I don’t look away. He raises an eyebrow at me.

“You have a problem?” he asks and suddenly he is half knelt in one of the seats beside Four, one hand on the table to balance. From a quick glance, Four does not seem pleased with this newest development.

“No,” I hear myself say and I lick my bottom lip. “I just like your face.” Next to me, one of Andrea’s hands flies to her mouth as she coughs. Eric’s eyebrows raise even further as he stands back up straight, a huff of a laugh escaping him. But he doesn’t say anything else as he spares Four a look and walks away.

“Are you crazy?” Andrea blurts out, her hand landing on the table as she turns to face me. I laugh at her words; they remind me of being in Candor when everyone would constantly question the motivation behind certain aspects of my behavior. Four is staring at me with dark eyes and he looks as if he so badly wants to say something but isn’t sure what and then he is being called away by another Dauntless at another table. I shrug.

“I was just being honest,” I explain casually.

“You have terrible taste,” Christina pipes up, giving me an incredulous glance.

“No,” I drawl, my fingers tapping against the table as I smile, my canine catching on my bottom lip. “You were just afraid of him. He’s handsome… and so is Four,” I add and Tris’s expression does something interesting. I meet her eyes as Andrea playfully shoves at me and I blink before looking away.

“You… like boys?” Tris mumbles the question as though she was reluctant to ask and I look at Christina who frowns at me slightly. I then turn to look at Andrea. I hum, reaching for a cup and taking a sip.

“I sure do.” I down the rest of the drink. No one says anything to that and I grab another burger, cutting the meat into pieces like Alice used to and also because it is something to do. Four does not come back to the table and it is Eric who leads us from the cafeteria.

As we walk, he gazes at me with his cold eyes until we pause in front of a set of wooden doors and he crosses his arms.

“In case you don’t already know, my name is Eric,” he announces to the group. “I’m one of the five leaders here at Dauntless. I’ve volunteered to watch over most of your training.” I smile and his eyes flicker to me for a moment before he continues to address the rest of us.

“Be in the training room by 8 AM sharp, every day. Training ends at six and then you’re free to do what you want from there.” He opens the doors and we all slink inside. Everything is out in the open which I am more than used to. The bathrooms are not hidden and neither are the showers. I count ten beds and look back to Eric. He is picking slightly at his nails as though he is bored. “Anyway, your rankings will—”

“Rankings?” I question and my sharp eyes meet his cold ones. “What are rankings for?” Eric smiles at me and my head cocks slightly to the side as my curiosity grows.

“To determine your jobs,” he says nonchalantly and shrugs, “and to decide who stays.” Ah. My eyebrows raise and Andrea’s hand is suddenly tight around my forearm.

“Wait, what?” Christina sounds incredulous and Eric merely shrugs again.

“We don’t need all of you. Especially if you’re not useful. Twelve of you, including the Dauntless-born, will be making it in.”

And the other eight will become factionless. It isn’t so bad…

“That’s not fair!” Molly exclaims and I glare over at her on principle alone. “If we had known—”

“If you’d known, you wouldn’t have joined then?” I demand, still glaring at her. She looks to me, and she looks furious. Heat rises to my face and I am just itching for her to take a step toward me. She does nothing though and no one else says a word. I only notice Eric passing by me because he pauses with a hand on my shoulder.

“You chose us.” His eyes flicker across all of us and then he looks down at me. “Now we get to choose you.”


	6. Garden of Evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training begins, Blaze annoys Eric and a little bit of everyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOL this chapter was interesting to write, I'll tell you that much. We're already catching up to the original amount of chapters this story had and going to surpass the original word count when we reach chapter seven, which is the original amount of chapters this fic had. I'm really glad I started writing this fic again, thanks y'all for reading!

The clothes provided by dauntless are loose around my shoulders and I have to constantly pull my shirt up on one side. They are comfortable though, a long-sleeve, black loose-knit shirt with joggers. I have another pair I intend to wear after I shower tomorrow before breakfast. Eventually, I give up trying to get my shirt to sit properly and I sit down on my bed. Andrea’s is next to mine, a few feet away and she is curled up beneath the blankets. I yawn and she mimics the gesture which makes me grin as I begin to carefully pull my hair into two dutch braids. All around the room, the only sound is the rustling of fabric. When I done braiding my hair, I am quick to follow suit beneath the blankets

“Good night,” I whisper to Andrea. She doesn’t respond but that’s okay. It is easy for me to fall asleep, and consciousness leaves me just as someone begins to cry.

I am startled awake by absolutely nothing and my eyes fly open to stare out into darkness. It’s warm beneath my blanket and I sit up slowly until I am hunched over slightly, sitting up. A half-assed glare makes it way to my face as I look over to the wall, eyes searching for a clock or something. The digital numbers are barely visible, reading out 6:42 AM. Sighing, I slide around and place my bare feet on the floor. It is cool to the touch and a slight shiver runs through me for a moment but it is quickly overtaken by how warm I still am.

Pulling up my sleeve as I walk, I carefully exit the dorm room and step back out into the hallway. I’d slipped on a pair of black sneakers before leaving and a few other members had stirred but not gotten up. Although I am tempted to turn back and drag Andrea with me, I continue through the mostly empty walkway. There is quiet chatter that doesn’t recede as I enter the mess hall, and there is considerably less people than there was last night which eases a bit of my subconscious anxiety. My eyes land on a few large platters on one of the tables and I wander over to it. There are biscuits and bacon and chopped fruit- apples- in different sections of each plate, separated from each other. I grab a plate and from the corner of my eye, I see Four and Eric on the other end of the table. They seem to be stuck in conversation so I choose to ignore them and purposely sit a ways away to eat.

Despite being tired, I know it’s futile to even entertain the idea of going back to the dorm and sleeping. If I fall back asleep, I will miss training. I’d rather eat, be tired and then give myself some time to wake up than flunk Dauntless on the first day of training. Sighing, I take a bite of my apple slice. My eyes flicker up from my plate as there is movement next to me and I look over to see Eric standing beside me, his hand resting on the table near my plate as he looks down at me.

“You’re up early, Initiate,” he comments casually, and there is a faux sense of interest as though he is gauging my reaction. I raise my eyebrows at him and scoff quietly in my chest.

“Blaze,” I reply after just a split second, and I’m not sure exactly where the word comes from. Eric stares at me and then cocks his head.

“What?” he asks, sounding just a hint confused.

“Blaze,” I repeat. “My name is Blaze, not  _ Initiate _ .” I take another bite of my apple as it’s Eric’s turn to scoff at me and he kind of laughs for a moment as he looks away and then back to me.

“Don’t know why you bother. We’ll see how long you last and whether your name will be worth remembering,” he says and stands up straight. This time, I roll my eyes and smirk, picking up another apple slice as though his attitude doesn’t bother me. The truth is, it doesn’t bother me in the slightest. Some of it is posturing, and even if it wasn’t, I wasn’t particularly caring of whether or not I was going to impress him. As far as I am concerned, he is just a nice face to look at, Dauntless leader or not.

“Oh, I think you’ll remember me quite well,” I reply offhandedly. Four is walking past the table and he looks over at us for a moment, frowning slightly before continuing out of the cafeteria. Beside me, Eric seems to have been watching him too because when I glance at him from the corner of my eyes, his gaze is falling back down to me.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” is all he says before he is pulling away and leaving the cafeteria as well. I shrug and continue to eat my food. More people shuffle in, grabbing food and setting down and eventually Andrea settles down next to me with entirely too much energy. I look at the clock on the opposite wall from us and frown as it only says 7 AM.

“Someone’s not a morning person, I see,” Andrea comments as she begins to slide food onto her plate with a fork. I rub a hand across my face. I see my aggravated resting face has not relaxed yet if her words are anything to go by.

“I hate waking up,” I groan, slumping slight against the table. “Mornings are for losers.” Andrea laughs in response and begins to eat shortly after. I am already done with my food so I take a few sips of water every now and then before I get up to leave. Andrea grabs my arm though and I almost stumble back into the table at the force she grips me.

“Where do you think you’re going!” she exclaims and then actually pulls me hard enough to make me fall back into my seat. I grunt in surprise as my back hits the side of the table hard enough to shift it slightly and I send Andrea an incredulous look.

“To shower?!” My words leave me as though I’m asking a question and Tris and Christina are suddenly sitting across from Andrea and I.

“You’re kind of loud,” Christina says and then yawns.

“They’ll live,” I reply instantly and Andrea releases me to bite into a banana. “Unfortunately for them, they will need to get used to my voice because not speaking isn’t anywhere on my agenda.”

“Yeah, you’re going to try that on our lovely instructor?” Christina raises an eyebrow at me and I shrug, turning slightly in my seat to sit sideways.

“Maybe it will come back to bite me in the ass but it hasn’t yet.” And that is good enough for me. I then turn my attention away from Christina, tuning out her words, ignoring the way her lips move as I address Andrea once more. “So can I go or are you going to tear my arm out my socket?”

Andrea pouts and I think if I were attracted to women, the expression would have made me comply immediately. “But who am I going to walk to the training room with?”

“What, do you need me to chew your food for you too?” I roll my eyes and lift a hand lazily toward Christina, Tris and now Will- I am surprised I remember Will’s name from briefly hearing it mentioned before. “You can walk with them; Also it’s not like I’m dying in the shower, I’ll be back.” Andrea laughs some more, her lips pressed together, the sound trapped in her throat and I sigh dramatically as I stand.

A gun is pressed into my hands and my eyes trail over the trigger. It weighs a bit more than I thought it would. I have never held a gun. Guns are for Dauntless, afterall.

“The first thing you’ll be learning is how to fire a gun and the second thing is how to fight.” Four’s voice carries around the room. My eyes follow him everywhere he goes and it is partially because I am listening and partially because I like to watch him. It interests me, the way his lashes curve right at the ends. After a few more moments of talking and one moment of calling Peter an idiot, Four faces the targets strewn against an opposite wall and lifts his own gun to fire several times. Each and every one of his bullets goes through the center, red circle of our targets. I swallow slowly and ignore the way the show of skill makes my heartrate pick up. It was impressive. I never was really doubting his abilities, but I am glad then, that Four is our instructor.

“What does firing a gun have to do with bravery?” Peter questions as he rubs one of his eyes. The gun is held loosely in his other hand and Four’s humourless gaze immediately whips toward him. Without a word, Four lifts his gun and presses it against Peter’s forehead. A bullet clicks into place and I find myself watching unwaveringly with slightly wide eyes. I know he isn’t going to pull the trigger and fire but adrenaline courses through me anyway at the thought.

“Wake up,” Four snaps, sounding and looking irritated. “You’re holding a loaded gun, you idiot, now  _ act like it _ .” He pulls the gun away and I laugh as I lift my own gun and watch Peter from the corner of my eyes. His face is red and I can tell he is fuming but serves him right.

We all turn to face our targets and I mirror the stance Four had taken moments ago to fire: feet shoulder-width apart and I peer down the sights. Carefully, I click a bullet into place, turning the safety off and I pull the trigger. The recoil is harsher than I expect and I almost smack myself in the face. Instead the gun hits my shoulder and I stare blandly at my target and the bullet hole I’ve made on the side of the target. The upper area of my chest hurts a little bit. If I actually make effort to aim this time, I should hit closer to the middle. I want to do well. We are getting ranked after all.

I fire several more times, my cheek tilting against the gun every now and then as I examine the holes I leave in my target. To the left of me is Andrea, her lips pursed in a pout of concentration and I suppose it is rather adorable, especially with her hair pulled back how it is. My own hair occasionally flickers in front of my face and for once, I am not entirely happy it is so long. It’s a bit of a nuisance and I tilt my head, the thick red coils falling from out of my eyes.

My concentration is suddenly broken when an Erudite to the right of me begins to speak- Will. His name is Will. “Statistically speaking, you should have hit the target at least once by now,” he says and I roll my eyes as I realize he is speaking to Tris. The blonde girl turns to give him a flat look and it makes me smile a little bit. “Even by accident,” Will adds and her frown increases. I look over and there’s not a single hole in her target.

She goes back to shooting and so do I, and I am growing used to the sound of gunfire.

“My fingers ache,” Andrea moans as we sit down for lunch. Her fingers are still clenched as though curled around her gun and my own hands are a bit sore and stiff as well. I try to flex them back and forth, opening and closing my fingers slowly and speeding up.

“We’re definitely going to be about 50% deaf by the time we’re done,” I say casually. Gunshots are loud. Christina, Tris, Will and Al sit with us and I begin to make a sandwich, grabbing pieces of bread, meat and cheese.

“My ears are ringing,” Andrea adds and Will nods.

“It’s called tinnitus,” he provides and I pause to roll my eyes up from my sandwich to him with some amusement. You can take the man out of Erudite, but you can’t take the Erudite out of the man.

“Isn’t that associated with hearing loss?” I ask and I’m not actually asking, a smirk making its way to my face.

“You really never change,” Christina says as she watches me and I look toward her. It’s easy to forget but we both came from Candor and now that I look at him again, Al as well.

“Glad I’m memorable.” I take a bite of my sandwich and smile and she narrows her eyes at me.

“Yeah, I remember very well how often you asked questions that weren’t really questions; You just loved to make a spectacle of yourself. Don’t you remember too, Al?” Christina looks toward the newest member of our group who seems to stumble without moving. It’s clear he doesn’t remember us even before he speaks.

“Uh…” His voice trails off and I snort, my hand moving up to cover my mouth.

“Oh come on!” Christina exclaims in partial disbelief, partial amusement. She slaps him lightly on the arm for emphasis. “You don’t remember me? We had math together just a few days ago! And I’m not quiet- neither is he.” Her finger points toward me and I grin, unashamed.

“I slept through Math most of the time,” he admits, sounding a bit sheepish and his hands raise in surrender as both Christina and I exchange looks. “It was first hour!” Christina scoffs and then looks toward Tris.

“Tris, you must remember, right?”

She is given no response and my head cocks as I watch her distant gaze on her peas. I frown slightly because, wow gross, who would voluntarily pick peas. Oh right, a former Abnegation. Christina huffs and leans across the table, snapping her fingers in front of Tris’s face and that snaps the girl out of her stupor.

“Huh, what, what is it?” Tris blinks up at Christina lets a little bit of exasperation show.

“Do you ever remember taking a class with me? No offense, I probably don’t remember if you did. All the Abnegation look the same to me.” Christina sits back down and my mouth twists a bit.

“Abnegation always caught my eye,” I say as I lean forward and rest my cheek against my fist. “They all have their own individua boring look, especially compared to the other factions.”

“You both are kind of mean!” Andrea blurts suddenly and I lazily look over to her and smile slyly. She is from Amity and I’m not surprised at her response. It’s definitely not what she would be used to coming from them. Amity were all about keeping the peace and being kind no matter what. Really, the only real way to keep constant peace like that is to lie which goes against the very fundamentals of being a Candor. Those who seek peace above all else, they say, will always deceive to keep the water calm.

“Not mean.” I lift my other hand wag my finger at her. “Just honest.”

“I’m sorry, am I being rude?” Christina shrugs a little bit. “My mother used to say that politeness is deception in pretty packaging.”

“I think that’s why our factions don’t really associate,” Tris says dryly and then laughs shortly. It makes me laugh a bit as well and I go back to eating. I chance a look at Andrea and she is watching me with some form of calculation in her gaze so I pause and hold her stare.

“What?” I ask and Andrea clears her throat uncomfortably.

“It’s just you have such a sweet face and then…” she trails off and shrugs which is a mistake because now I am fully invested. “Well! You just seem so innocent until you start speaking.”

“Innocent?” I repeat in disbelief, voice raising until it fades into amusement. “I am not innocent. I’m a menace to society. Beware.”

“Menace to my hearing, maybe,” Andrea grumbles, rubbing the side of her face. I laugh and a couple of the others chuckle. Even Tris seems to which for some reason only makes me laugh a little bit more. I don’t think I’ve seen her smile or laugh since we’ve gotten here to Dauntless.

When we all gather back together for training once more, Four wasn’t the only one leading us to a new room. Eric walked beside him quietly, his ice-blue eyes occasionally glancing over his shoulder to look us initiates over. The new room is huge with dull-coloured, wooden floors that have some give when we step on them. I look around, noting several punching bags hanging from silver chains, as well as practice dummies piled and sitting in a corner, shaped like people. My eyes then land on a large, projected screen and all our names are listed in alphabetical order. Next to our names is a number: zero. My eyes flicker down the list and pause on my own name spelled out in bold, white letters. ‘ _ Blaze. _ ’ My lips twitch in a smirk and I look toward Eric, feeling oddly smug. There wasn’t a single person I’d told other than him my new little name.

“As I said this morning, you’ll be learning how to fight next,” Four says. “We’ll be starting off with the dummies and punching bags—

“And then you’ll be moving on to fighting each other,” Eric adds, interrupting Four. He smirks and I watch the gleam of the piercings in his bottom lip as they catch the light. It’s not a surprising conclusion and all my brain immediately pictures is my fist connecting with someone’s face hard enough that phantom pain trails over my knuckles.

Four’s lips straighten into a thin line as he looks at Eric. “That will come tomorrow,” he says as he wraps his fists with what looks like bandages. “Today, you will be learning techniques, so pay attention.”

Both he and Eric demonstrate several types of punches, first against the air and then against each other. I watch their movements carefully, my eyes trailing across their forms and the flexing of muscle. Eric is just a bit bulkier than Four, hardly noticeable until his bicep flexes as he draws back a punch.

When we are sent off to practice, my mind repeats the motions in my head over and over. It’s a talent of mine. Usually, I am able to mimic just about anything after seeing it at least once or twice. My punches land against the punching bag in front of me and it’s satisfying enough as the sound of skin hitting tough leather echoes around the room. I am more comfortable doing the kicks, however. Each time I bring my leg up to connect with the bag, the chain holding it rings with the impact. A couple feet away, Andrea pauses to look over at me and I give her a quick grin. As I do, my eyes catch Eric’s as he makes his way toward us. He and Four were pacing the room, stopping every now and then to critique or comment.

I turn back to my bag and switch back to punching. My brain is formulating combinations and after a jab, I twirl to kick. It feels natural and I huff a laugh. I go to throw another punch but my wrist is abruptly caught by a hand. My head whips around and I glare at the offender only to see it’s Eric. He speaks before I can, tilting my arm in his grasp. “You’re focusing too much on hitting hard,” he comments and releases my arm. “But you have good form.”

“I know,” I find myself replying because… I am aware. Before, my strikes were made with the intention to make the bag move. It is almost therapeutic in a way but I don’t actually know from what.

“If you know,” Eric continues and I can hear aggravation creeping into his unamused voice, “then fix it.” I place my hand against the punching bag and narrow my eyes slightly at Eric.

“I told you so,” I laugh then, relaxing as I turn back to punching the bag. It is a quick jab with less force. I magine it is someone’s throat.

“Excuse me?”

“I told you,” I repeat and I grab the bag to knee it and pull back. “That you would remember me quite well. I saw my name on the board.” I flash my teeth at Eric in a smile though he doesn’t look amused by my words. Just beyond him, Four is speaking with Tris and honestly, she probably needs it. Andrea, on the other hand, is stopped entirely, gazing at Eric and I with wide eyes.

“And what makes you think I had anything to do with that?” Eric questions coldly and I tilt my head, humming as I aim another kick.

“You’d make a terrible Candor. You’re the only person I’ve told that I go by that name.” I steady the bag to stop it from swaying and Eric’s eyebrows furrow and I shrug at him.

Eric leans toward me, a piercing look in his blue eyes as I meet them. “Your arrogance isn’t going to get you anywhere. I’d watch myself if I were you.”

“Well you’re not,” I retort, pushing my hair back from my face and he abruptly grips it as well, jerking my head back and it takes all of my concentration not to stumble. I can feel several more eyes on me and I frown, holding back a scowl.

“If you’re smart, you’ll cut this,” he says sharply and then release me with a light shove and walks away. My fists bunch together at my hips as heat courses through my so fiercely that the rapid beating of my heart makes me feel lightheaded. I was already planning to get at some of my hair cut but now that Eric points it out, the childish part of me wants to leave it. I can’t tell if I am angry or… something else.

“He’s scarier than Four,” Andrea whispers to me, sounding alarmed and I huff a short breath through my nose.

“He’s not scary.” I don’t bother to lower my voice because I don’t really care if he hears me or not. “He’s just a jerk.” My own words make me grin a bit as I look away from him. My eyes had been trained on the tattoo wrapped around his forearm. I wonder if he has more tattoos than the one on his arm and the ones that peak out from his shirt and trail up his neck. He would need to remove his shirt for me to see the rest of it.

“Ah, Blain- Blaze…” Andrea sighs and gives me an exasperated smile. “You’re really something else.” I chew the side of my cheek, curbing another full-blown grin.

“Wouldn’t be here in Dauntless if I wasn’t,” I say simply.

By the time we are released for Dinner, there are a purple trail of bruises blooming like flowers across my knuckles. Softer, duller coloured ones are forming along my lower legs but the ache isn’t intolerable. In fact, I quite like it. It gives me a strange gratification to see and I slide my arm around Andrea’s waist and pull her closer. I never noticed before but she is taller than me, just barely. She smiles at me and wraps her arm around my shoulders as we walk. In front of us, Tris and Christina walk together as we make our way to the Pit.

“I want to get a tattoo,” Al suddenly announces and I look over to him and then nod. I do too, actually.

“Sounds like a great idea,” I agree and Andrea looks thoughtful.

“Our clothes kind of suck,” she says. “We should go shopping.”

“What would you get a tattoo of?” asks Will.

“Anything at all, really. Anything to seem more like we belong, right?” I look at Al pointedly and his jaw flexes a bit.

“I know you’ve heard me crying but- I do want to seem like I’m really part of the faction,” he admits. Christina turns and begins to walk backwards, poking Al in the arm.

“Learn to quiet down, will ya?” Her eyes then go to Tris and almost immediately the short blonde is shaking her head.

“I will not be cutting my hair or piercing my face,” she says resolutely.

“Boooo,” I jeer, cupping a hand around my mouth to make the sound echo.

“How about your bellybutton?” Christina laughs.

“Or your nipple,” Will suggests with a smirk and I elbow him in the side hard, but light enough that it is clear I am joking.

“Or maybe somewhere more… normal, like your ears,” Andrea adds, maneuvering to stand with Tris. The Pit is crawling with people, Dauntless Initiates and members alike trailing up and down the paths and we move out of the way of people passing us by. Al and Will go to the tattoo parlor but Andrea, Tris, Chrstina and I go to one of the clothing shops. Just next to it is piercing center and my brain swims with ideas. I want to get piercings as well, through my ears, and through my lip and maybe even my tongue.

I grab a few pairs of pants from the store and I pause, watching Andrea check herself out in a black, glimmering skirt. She wears a long-sleeved crop-top, more of her tanned skin showing and I find myself nodding. “Looks good on your figure,” I say as I move closer. Andrea smiles at me over her shoulder as I move past her toward another rack. I’m not sure where Tris and Christina have gone but I pause as I lift a dress. It is a thin, soft material and I hand my pants to Andrea to hold so I can try it on.

The cloth fits to my figure and I meet my own gaze. I’m keeping the dress. I don’t really care if it makes me look more like a girl. I look good in it.

“Man,” Andrea grumbles, “You’re so pretty!” My lip twitches.

“I know,” I reply simply.

“Humble too,” Andrea says sarcastically and I pull my gaze from my reflection and take back the pants.

“Humility is dishonest.” I release a breath that threatens to be a chuckle as I look at her put-out expression. “Come now, Andy; you’re very pretty too, you know.”

Andrea stays in the store as I make my trip back to our dorms to store my clothes. I head back to the pit, a jacket similar to the crop top Andrea had been wearing covering my bare arms from the dress I wore. I don’t bother trying to find anyone again as I continue down the path, dodging out of the way of people until I make it to the shop next to the clothing store. I pause in the entryway, just for a moment, as I meet the eyes of Eric as he sits in a chair, a needle piercing the upper flesh of his ear.

The woman piercing his ear has streaks of neon-yellow going through her long hair pulled back into a ponytail. I enter the shop and glance around at the glimmering rings, jewels, studs and plugs on display behind glass.

“Be with ya in a second,” says the woman as she pulls back from Eric. There are three, new silver hoops gleaming in the light, circling the upper part of his ear. The triple upper helix. They look good on him. The woman rounds a counter and Eric rises from the seat and crosses his arms, staring over at me.

“You’re in a dress,” he says suddenly, looking down at me as I walk a little closer.

“I’m in a dress,” I repeat blandly and stare back at him. Eric rolls his eyes and looks toward the woman for a moment as she cleans off the device she’d just used on him. I move past him and run my fingers across a few of the studs. I really want to piercing my lips but part of me cannot decide between rings or little studs. My mind drifts for a moment. I plan on getting tattoos as well. I think I will get the Candor scales over my heart and… something on my neck for

“You know, you almost fit in here naturally.” Eric’s voice startles me but I don’t show it. I look over and Eric is beside me. You’re not supposed to, but my parents both told me their previous factions before they were Candor. My mother was Dauntless and my father was Erudite. Being born in Candor made me all three. It’s not scientific but it’s the most explanation I have. “When you’re not being obnoxious.”

“I’m not obnoxious, you just don’t like that you don’t scare me,” I say in a sing-songy voice as I lift two different piercings into my hands, a ring and a glimmering crystal stud.

“There’s a difference between being brave and just being straight up stupid,” Eric snaps as he takes my wrist and I peer up at him.

“Well, I’m being neither. I’m just being honest,” I retort. His eyes narrow down at me but his expression is oddly lacking in the supposed irritation he feels. There is a strange calculatingly blankness that always hovers beneath every shift of his face.

“You’re not Candor anymore,” he says quietly, “and you’d do well to remember that.” I try to pull my arm away but he doesn’t budge. I frown slightly.

“But I’m from there, it’s only natural that living there for eighteen years rubbed off on me.” I lick my lips and this time when I try to pull away, he lets go. The woman, her nametag visible to me now and reading as  _ ‘Nessa’ _ looks a bit uncomfortable as she watches the two of us. Abruptly, I lift the jewelry in my hands and for a moment, his eyes flicker to them. “Where do you think I should get these? I was thinking my ears or, maybe my tongue.”

“I don’t care,” he responds immediately, voice harsh as he shoves past me and promptly out of the store itself. I smirk, biting the corner of my lip. The same feeling from earlier in the training room comes to me and I can at least tell this time that it isn’t anger. It makes me feel a little bit giddy to rile him up.

“Were you going to get anything done, or…” Nessa’s voice sounds behind me and I smile over at her.

“A few things, actually,” I say confidently and grab a couple more rings.


End file.
